


Volatile (Life is Explicit)

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Jamilton - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 04:56:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14686944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alexander and Thomas have always hated each other, that's been clear since the start. But now Alex is acting strange, and rumors are circulating at their high school -- and Thomas believes death is the solution to all his issues.AKA, that AU that was inspired by me almost getting run over for a dumb reason on my way home from school.





	Volatile (Life is Explicit)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I didn't beta this so I'm sorry for bad grammar!

The bike jolted along the sidewalk as Alexander precariously dodged pedestrians and other kids and teens biking or scootering home from school. His phone dug into his hip bone, constantly reminding him of its presence in the front pocket of his jeans.

Rapidly, he did the math in his head: it was about a fifteen-minute bike ride, he was about half of the way there so he had, at most, eight minutes left. At the rate he was going, though, time passed quickly. Time. Speaking of time. Alexander pulled over into the parking lot of a musty gas station. He was downtown now, so he was close. It would be a two-minute detour, at the most. See, he wanted to beat his younger brother James home so he'd have time to use the computer without interruption. Pulling out his phone to check the time, he noticed it was 3:17. Good time, considering he'd left around 3:04. Maybe he was a tad bit slower than usual, because high school was unforgiving, putting gym class at the end of the day and tiring him out with the mile run.

Then he noticed that stupid dark-magenta Prius in the line for gas. The car went through quickly, and Alex couldn't help but stare ― he knew who it belonged to.

His phone buzzed. It was 3:20, he should get going. Kicking his kickstand back up, he started biking, gripping his phone, racing the Prius from the sidewalk. Then he realized that the driver ― Thomas ― looked about to turn. But he couldn't stop. Thomas did, letting Alex pass but not noticing the dropped phone which was now in the direct path of his left front wheel. So it shocked him when the shorter teen decided to (supposedly) inexplicably dart out into the road after suddenly dropping his bike. The Prius screeched to a halt.

“Can’t you stop being everywhere,  Alexander?” Thomas muttered, and a car behind him honked. Not taking his eyes off of Alexander, Thomas flipped the other driver off.

The Nevis-native teen was staring at him with wide eyes like a deer in headlights, sweat messing up his hair even more than usual. He was breathing heavily, Thomas could tell. But then he just hopped on his bike and rode off.

Thomas followed him, slowing his car down a bit and ignoring the angry drivers around him. “Alex! Where you going?”

The kid seemed surprised. “Um, just home. I need to get there fast.”

“Want a ride?”

“S-sure..” Alexander may have verbally stammered, he didn't hesitate to get in the passenger seat. “Should I put my bike on the back, or…?”

“I've got it.” Thomas parked on the side of the road and slid out of his seat, quickly lifting the bike. He then came over to Alex's side. “Wanna open the trunk for me?”

Alex shrugged, nodded, got out of the car, and opened the trunk with little (but still some) difficulty. Thomas easily put the bike in, then brushed his hands off and slammed the trunk. At this sudden movement, Alexander jumped slightly.

“Okay then. C'mon, get in,” Thomas said flatly. Alex sniffled quickly (because pre-summer allergies are evil) and got in again. Both teens were suddenly aware of the close proximity they were in to each other, and Alex rested his head against the window as Thomas revved up the engine.

“Hey, um, thanks, Thomas.”

“No problem,” the Virginian-based highschooler shrugged.

“No, really. I was racing to get home, this helps a bunch.”

“Okay..”

“I'm sorry for being a jerk to you―”

Thomas whipped his head around incredulously. “Dude, that's our dynamic! You don't feel guilty ― it's a simple, mutual rivalry. Don't complicate it,” he ended in a grumble, turning his eyes back onto the road.

Alex slumped into his seat. “Jeez. Okay.”

They sat in silence the remainder of the way, brooding and contemplating (and driving, of course).


End file.
